Rock Star
by PhylanceSimons
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a famous rock star in Britian. Everyone loves him and he's ready to make his popularity known world wide. But what happens when he tries and ends up having to do a duet with a former love? USUK is here people! Come and get it! Also, first stroy! YAY! XD Rated M because I don't trust myself
1. Prologue

~~~Prologue~~~

It was a sad and cruel fate for Arthur Kirkland. Well, it wasn't always sad and cruel. When he was a teen he got to travel around the world, do his favorite thing in the world: play music, and even fall in love.

Arthur attended high school in America, even though he refused to go to that horrid country. He didn't have any friends, his social status was: outcast, and no matter who approached him they all seemed to tick him off, especially a certain Alfred F. Jones. He was obnoxious, egotistical, bottomless pit. Yet for some reason he was one of the most popular kids at school. Kids would crowd the boy talking and having a good time with him. Boys would come to party, and girls would come to flirt.

Arthur openly despised him.

It wasn't the fact that Alfred was popular and he wasn't or he was a better athlete than he, but his face was the one thing that ticked him off. He wasn't ugly; he was the exact opposite of it. He was incredibly handsome, and he got shivers anytime he saw his face. His stunning blue eyes hidden behind his square half rimless glasses, and his perfect golden locks that fell into his face, and even that silly little cowlick that stuck on top of his head was cute.

It ticked Arthur off how much this one person got him so worked up, so he decided to avoid him at all cost. Anytime they did cross paths, however, Arthur always made it a point to start an argument with him. It would give the appearance of "I-hate-you-and-I-hope-you-hate-me" when he really felt "I-act-like-I-hate-you-but-I-actually-really-like- you".

Then there came the time in high school when they had to do this huge project at the end of the year. This project had to be completed by every student, and was a huge chunk of their overall grade. The project combined almost all subjects, so to allow the students to get a good grade on this project the teachers gave the students a whole month to complete it. The project was to be completed in pairs, and guess who Arthur was partnered up with. Mr. Perfect himself; Alfred F. Jones.

At first the two got nothing done, for the constant arguing, but they eventually pushed down their pride and worked together. The more they talked and interacted with each other, the more Arthur fell in love with Alfred. But what Arthur didn't know was that Alfred returned his feelings. At the end of the project the two confessed to each other, then became a couple.

Then one fateful evening, Arthur was accepted to a University back in Britain. The University recognized Arthur's talent and was practically begging him to attend. This being his dream, Arthur accepted with no hesitation. But no lover would want to be separated, and asked if Alfred wanted to come with. Outraged, Alfred declined.

The two went their separate ways from then on, acted as they did before.


	2. Chapter 1: Opportunity

~~~Chapter 1~~~

Opportunity

He tapped his pencil on the glass coffee table rapidly. His patience thinning, he closed his eyes trying to concentrate. A rhythm, a lyric, something, anything that sounded good.

His eyes shot open with an idea. He positioned his pencil to his open, blank song book. When he was about to write, he lost it. Groaning in irritation, Arthur leaned back into the black leather chair. His head facing toward the ceiling, he used his free hand to rub the sleep away from his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

Arthur was once again in one of his famous "art blocks". Quitting, he tossed his pencil toward the coffee table and decided to get some rest. Walking toward the stairs, he noticed how quiet it was. Glancing at the clock that was in his kitchen, it read 3:07.

_Wonderful_, Arthur thought, _I can get a full three hours of sleep before my recording session. Hell. . . _

Sighing, he continued to climb the stairs. He moved quietly trying his best not to wake their parents or siblings, if he did then there really would be hell. He opened the door to his room and collapsed onto his bed, not bothering to change cloths. Closing his eyes and falling asleep right on impact, Arthur had the same dream he had for the past few weeks now.

He was in high school again, but the layout was different than he remembered, and was wearing his normal ripped jeans and graphic T-shirt. Also, there wasn't a single face he knew. He continued to walk around the unknown school, trying to find someone he knew. Everyone kept walking up to him asking him questions he didn't know, he responded as if he knew what he was saying and kept walking.

He made it to the gym when the scene melted into his old house. He was suddenly sitting on the old carpet in front of his old, wood coffee table. Spread out on the table was that damn project that was at the end of the school year. He rolled his eyes, for he remembered that bloody thing. Sitting beside him was another person he didn't recognize, he seemed so familiar though. Because Arthur was leaning back and the stranger before him was leaned toward the table, working, it was impossible to see the boy's face. Arthur tried to move and see his face, but couldn't. Arthur could see no features on the other boy, not even his hair even though he was so close to him.

Suddenly, the other boy's head started to turn to face Arthur. Arthur's eyes widened more and more as the boy's features were being reviled, slowly. But the dream was cut short by a loud annoying _beep beep beep_.

Still face down, Arthur lifted his head slowly and glared at his alarm. Raising his right arm, he slammed his fist down onto the clock with no mercy, shutting it up.

Arthur groaned and slowly turned himself over rubbing his eyes. He rose slowly and made his way toward the shower.

_What was with that dream?_ Arthur thought to himself irritatedly, _it makes bloody no sense at all!_

Arthur then took a quick shower and changed into a different pair of ripped jeans, and a different graphic T-shirt. He made his way down the stairs to find himself to be the only one away, yet again.

The young Englishman grabbed an English muffin and his pack as his slipped out of the door, not bothering to say good-bye. The quickly shoved his breakfast into his mouth as he climbed into his car. Turning on the ignition, he rolled out of the drive-way, and headed toward the recording studio.

When Arthur finally arrived, he did a quick session with his band mates, recorded a song, and then left. The routine on always recording and rehearsing was starting to become tire some. He's been doing this for a year now. Freshman year in college, a producer noticed Arthur's clear talent, and signed him up for a record label. Arthur was ecstatic, at the time. Now it all seemed like routine.

Arthur then headed toward his friends favorite hang out place. There he met up with Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis. The three had hung out together ever since they were kids. Arthur recently became friends with them when he attended college, or when he _did_.

Arthur pulled his car into the parking lot, when he was parked he got out and made his way into the café. The reason why this café was their favorite place to hang out was because Antonio worked there. That meant free food and drinks. Gilbert and Francis always pried food from the Spaniard. They did it so often, in fact, that Antonio just grew use to giving them free food.

When Arthur pushed open the door, it_ ding_-ed to his arrival. Because no one usually went to the café, it was empty except for the three men.

One of the guys in the café had white hair and red eyes. Yeah, he was albino. He felt the need to always brag about anything and everything about himself that made him "awesome" just because he was Prussian. Another guy there was Francis. Francis was a Frenchman with blond wavy hair that barely reached his shoulders. He had a slight beard coming in from under his chin. His thick French accent seemed to always get on Arthur's nerves, but Francis was one of his closest friends. The last was Antonio. Antonio was a Spanish boy with brown chopped hair. He was always more kind then the others and more care free. But the reason why the three of them seemed to get along so well was that they were all perverts.

Truthfully, Arthur didn't have the slightest idea why he always ended up coming back to the café. Anytime he went he always ended up giving free tickets to his gigs, getting really irritated, or both.

When Arthur walked in, all heads were on him. Their previous conversation sent out the window, the three greeted Arthur with open arms. Francis pulled out a chair for Arthur with a, "Why hello eyebrows!" Arthur glared at the name Francis seemed to pick out for him. Just because his eyebrows were a tad thicker than the normal persons, doesn't give Francis the right to constantly tease him about it.

"Shut up git," Arthur muttered under his breath as he took a seat next to Francis.

"Oh, someone is in a foul mood today. Today, it only took three words to piss you off," Francis bragged smiling like an idiot toward Arthur.

Arthur sighed, "I'm just not in the mood."

"Is there something bothering you?" Antonio asked from behind the counter.

Arthur gave a heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his choppy hair, "I suppose," Arthur confessed.

"Do share," Francis pried leaning toward him.

With a more irritated sigh, Arthur obliged wanting to get some stress off his chest. He folded his arms and leaned back in his chair lifting it from the ground. "Well, it's just that, with everything going on now, I feel like everything is becoming-"

"Arg!" Gilbert moaned interrupting Arthur, "Alright that's enough touchy-feely crap! So you ya got any tickets to your next gig?!"

Arthur glared at Gilbert, but the Prussian wasn't fazed by it. Rolling his eyes, Arthur pulled from his pocket three tickets to his next gig. Holding the three slits of paper, the trio gasped and each took a ticket without hesitation. They cheered for joy and conversed within each other on how awesome it would be.

Suddenly, Arthur's cell phone played a quick tune within his pocket signaling he got a text. Pulling it out quickly, he read the caller ID: "Manager". Arthur pursed his lips. Kaoru, his manager, was probably texting about some signing session, or to schedule some other concert he would hold in the near future. Kaoru has been his manager from the start of his career. His manager was a short Asian man, with brown short hair. He had big bushy eyebrows just like himself, which was kind of why Arthur liked him so much. He didn't speak a lot, but he had his moments.

Arthur flipped open his phone and read, _come down to the studio. duet opportunity. you have to do it. ~Koaru_

'Duet opportunity'? That couldn't be good.

Sighing, Arthur closed his phone and turned to the three whom were still gawking at the tickets he gave them earlier. "Sorry guys I got to go back to the studio," Arthur grunted as he stood from his chair. The three didn't seem too happy about it, but they waved Arthur good-bye as he walked out of the café and into his car.

As Arthur made his way to the studio, he wondered what idiot Koaru had paired him up with.


	3. Chapter 2: Duet

Warning: Boyxboy (finally) don't like; don't read! and I don't own Hetalia or any of it's awesome characters, sadly!

Thaks for baring with me everyone, and I honsetly didn't think I'd get this done so fast :D

Enjoy! =)

~~~Chapter 2~~~

Duet

Slamming his car door shut, Arthur waltzed his way back into the recording studio. He walked into the building and into his usual recording studio. He turned the bras knob to reveal Kaoru standing next to two people.

One was another short Asian man. Arthur supposed that they knew each other well, for they seemed to be having a pleasant conversation. The other Asian had heavy lidded eyes that seemed very lifeless and dull. His black hair was cut in a similar short fashion as Kaoru's. In fact they looked really alike, like they could be related.

The other person standing beside the other Asian was someone Arthur didn't quite recognize, and it wasn't just because his back was to him. The other was significantly taller than the two, and Arthur. His messy blond hair was short and had an absurd cowlick that stuck up awkwardly at the top of his head. Arthur couldn't see his face, but he did note the large brown aviator's jacket he was wearing. The large "50" in white print was hard to miss, it seemed eerily familiar.

When Arthur closed the door to make some noise so they would recognize he had entered, Kaoru turned his head to meet Arthur's emerald eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke on Arthur's behalf, "Kiku, this is Arthur Kirkland. Arthur, this is my brother Honda Kiku."

He knew they were related.

His voice barely above a whisper, Kiku walks up to Arthur and bows slightly, "It's very nice to meet you."

Arthur nodded his head and replied, "Likewise." Eager to know who he would sing with, he nodded his head toward the taller brute and asked, "So who's the other bloke?"

Kiku turned his head toward the other blond and smiled, "Oh, pardon my rudeness." Kiku stretched out his hand to the boy behind him and introduced him, "Arthur, this is my client Alfred Jones." At hearing his name, the boy turned towards Arthur whose eyes were growing at every second. He realized why the jacket was so familiar; it was the same jacket he's seen so long ago. It seemed like another life at the time.

Arthur's jaw dropped as he saw his old lover once again. He hadn't seen the boy in a year or so, but he looked exactly the same: blond hair, half-rimmed glasses, ridiculous cowlick, and idiotic smile. Alfred had his hands in his jacket pockets and grinned down at Arthur with those piercing blue eyes. He wore a blue graphic T-shirt with, of course, the American flag on it and ripped jeans, just like Arthurs.

He may have looked average, but to Arthur he looked absolutely stunning. He hasn't seen the boy in ages, and he still got goose bumps when he gazed into those icy blue pools. As gorgeous as he was, Arthur had to fight it. He forced himself to remember how he tore apart his heart at that horrible decline all those days ago. His hate for Alfred came rushing back into his head like a tidal wave.

Even though the feeling of hate washed over him, he couldn't help but feel his ears slowly turn red and his palms start to sweat. Alfred was the one and only person in the world who could do this to Arthur, and he hated it. He was usually so collected and calm, but whenever the American showed up he lost all of his composure.

Quickly closing his jaw holding down his blush, Arthur cleared his throat, "Well it's a pleasure to meet you Alfred." He then out stretched his hand. Even though he would never forgive Alfred, he still had to uphold his reputation as a gentleman. For the sake of his pride, Arthur kept a straight and acted like a stranger toward Alfred.

Apparently Alfred didn't get the message and smiled toward Arthur and said, "It's good to see you again too!" he clasped Arthur's hand firmly and gave it a good hard squeeze. Not quite prepared for his strength, Arthur winced at the pain, but tried not to show it.

"Alfred-san is hoping that you and he could do a duet sometime," Kiku smiled as Alfred let his iron grip on Arthur's hand go.

Rubbing his hand slightly, Arthur raised his eye brow. "Oh, tempting offer," Arthur rolled his eyes making the sarcasm in his voice quite clear. He avoided making eye contact with Alfred who was staring at Arthur as if he were something that fell from outer space.

Kaoru then cleared his throat. Arthur looked up at him and made eye contact. They had a silent conversation between each other that basically went:

_Do it._

_And if I don't?_

_You'll lose a good opportunity to gain publicity in America. And you _need_ that. _

Breaking his gaze, Arthur sighed, "Fine. I'll do the duet."

_Damn that Asian._

Kiku's grin widened, "Wonderful! Kaoru and I shall make the plans of when and where the duet will take place." Kiku and Kaoru then made a B-line to the door, leaving Arthur and Alfred alone in the room.

_I'll kill that Asian_, Arthur thought. 

An awkward silence filled the air. Clearing his throat yet again, Arthur tried to make conversation, "So, you're a singer now?"

"Yup!" Alfred bragged, "A pretty darn good one too! They just can't get enough of me!" He closed his eyes letting the comment soak in quite proud of himself.

Arthur couldn't help but laugh.

Alfred's smile lessened, "What's so funny?

Suppressing his laugh, Arthur giggled, "I-It's just that you're a horrid singer!" Alfred's eyes widened in shock, he was a good singer! "How you ever managed to get a single fan is beyond me!"

Alfred's face was red with anger at this point. He pointed his finger at the Brits face and yelled, "I am a good singer!"

"No you're not!" Arthur countered shooing Alfred's hand away from his face, "I've heard you sing before and it sounds like an ill turkey being run over by a truck. Several times."

"Hey!" Alfred screeched, "I've got millions of fans, that proves I got skills!"

"I've. Heard. You. Sing. It's awful!" Arthur said poking Alfred in the chest with every word. At this point, Arthur was just trying to get under Alfred's skin and it was working. "And besides, the only reason I'm doing this is to get more popular in America. And what girl wouldn't love a sexy British singer with_ talent_."

"Narcissist," Alfred muttered crossing his arms over his chest pouting.

Arthur scowled at him and rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Kaoru is scheduling everything so I'm out of here." Arthur quickly turned his heel and started to make his way toward the door. He didn't see the need to stay there any longer. Even though, he loved to get under Alfred's skin he still despised him and wanted to get as far away from him as possible.

When he was inches away from the handle ready to be done with that obnoxious American, a hand slammed on the wood creating a loud startling _BANG_. Arthur jumped, but he didn't dare turn around for he knew who created the noise.

A head suddenly made contact with Arthur's shoulder, and Arthur blushed. A voice barely above a whisper said, "I missed you ya know."

"Does it look like I care?" Arthur muttered at the same volume as Alfred.

There was a slight pause.

"You didn't have to go."

"Yes I did!" he suddenly yelled. Tears started to form around his eyes, but he fought them down. Why on Earth was he getting so emotional?!

Suddenly, a second hand grabbed Arthur's wrist and turned him around in a quick, smooth motion. Arthur slammed his back to the door, and looked up at Alfred in slight fear and full on anger. Taking his hand off the door, Alfred grabbed Arthur's chin and lifted it upward to connect their two lips.

Arthur was in so much shock at the sudden move he merely stood there for a few seconds with Alfred's lips pressed onto his. When Alfred's tongue started to enter his mouth, that's when Arthur started to squirm. His tongue brushed up against his and searched his entire mouth. It felt so good and wrong at the same time. He tried to push Alfred off but he was too strong for the Brit.

Not knowing what else to do, he reached for the cold metal handle. After a few moments, he grabbed hold of the knob and turned it pushing the door open. Arthur quickly slipped out the door while poor Alfred fell flat on his face with a yelp.

Glaring down at the boy, Arthur clicked his tongue in disgust and left the American sprawled on the ground.


	4. Chapter 3: Game

Filler chapter! :D Yeah, nothin much goin on in this one, but I think it's a more fun one wehre Alfred is being Alfred! This one is actually really short, and I hope I'll get the next chapter up soon ^^

I don't own Hetalia or any of it's awesome characters!

~~~Chapter 3 ~~~

Games

After planning several appointments with Alfred to work on their duet, Kaoru texted Arthur the dates they would meet and converse. Clicking his tongue, Arthur snapped his phone shut. He didn't want to think of that Yank for a while, but that was nearly impossible. His face, his cloths, his scent was the only thing on his mind.

Letting an irritated sigh escape his lips, Arthur threw his head back to, once again, stare at his blank ceiling. He tried so desperately hard to forget him, but he just couldn't. He even managed to think of a few lyrics about Alfred but refused to write them down. Arthur wouldn't allow Alfred to worm his way back into his life. Once their little duet was over, Arthur would make it a point to never see the American again.

Days went on like usual with the occasional sessions with Alfred. It seemed Kaoru scheduled a meeting date every Saturday for the next two months. _Thanks a lot Kaoru_, Arthur thought as he walked to the recording studio to meet with Alfred to get started on their song, _Now I'll have to spend my free day with that git._

Stepping into the cool AC, Arthur slung his bag off his back and let it fall to the ground. Arthur raised his eyebrow at Alfred whom was already in the studio. Alfred was sitting on a black leather couch, _upside down_, playing one of his absurd video games while he knit his eyebrows and stuck out his tongue like a child.

When his bag hit the floor with a thud, Alfred's eyes left his game for a split second to see Arthur's unimpressed expression. His glasses almost falling from his face, Alfred greeted, "S'up Artie!"

Alfred's eyes already glued back to his game, Arthur rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that, my name is _Arthur_."

"Yeah, but Artie's cuter!" Alfred smiled as he turned himself right side up.

Arthur's face turned bright red with his eyes wide for a split second. Arthur cleared his throat and stared at the ground not daring to see Alfred's smug face. "S-so about the song. . ."

"Aw right! In a sec though. I'm about to beat this killer boss!" Alfred grinned. He held the consul closer to his face as his tongue stuck itself up out of his mouth clicking the buttons on the video game at a rapid pace.

Clearly irritated and not willing to go with Alfred's request, Arthur stormed over to the couch and snatched the game from Alfred's fingertips. Arthur snapped it shut leaving Alfred wide-eyed and jaw-dropped. "M-My game!" Alfred cried.

"You will get it back with our session is done," Arthur sneered tossing the game into his pack. As he did, Arthur grabbed his lyrics notebook and a pencil from his bag. He sat down across Alfred and opened his book to a blank page. "Now," Arthur started looking down at the blankness of the page, "What shall the song be about? I was thinking of a good song about- um, Alfred?"

Alfred continued to sit in the same position: mouth open, eyes wide, and hands positioned as if he were still holding his game. A look of horror was on his face as he held an imaginary gaming consul. Arthur sighed in irritation. Was there no end to his stupidity? "Get over it man, it was just a game! You'll get it back! As I was saying-"

"How could you?"

"Pardon?"

Alfred shot up like a bullet from his chair, "How could you?! No one steals a man's video games without punishment!"

"Wa-What?!" Arthur stammered, truly confused.

"Give it here!" Alfred yelled as he jumped Arthur. With a scream, Alfred landed on top of Arthur with an _oof_. Both of the boy's weight was too much for the chair and it leaned backwards sending the two toppling down onto the floor.

Arthur rubbed his poor head and tried to prop himself on his elbow but was stopped by Alfred lying down on top of him. Arthur girt his teeth and hissed, "Get off me you bastard!"

Alfred smirked. Arthur didn't like that smirk. "Not until you let me finish my game."

Arthur blinked. "Are you seriously still on that?!"

"Ah, hell yeah."

Arthur tried again to push the younger one off him, but he was just too damn heavy, "Come on Alfred! We need to work, now get your fat ass off me!"

"Not until you let me finish my game," Alfred repeated.

Why was he being so difficult? "Fine. Fine! You can play your bloody game! Now get off me, you're ridiculously heavy!"

With a flash of those perfect white teeth, Alfred hopped off of Arthur. Arthur took in a fast breath of fresh air. Granted he exaggerated being crushed, but Alfred really was heavy on top of him.

Getting off the filthy floor slowly, Arthur brushed off his pants and shirt. He glanced over at Alfred who was back in his virtual world. Not taking his eyes off his game, Alfred said, "Ya know, none of that had to happen if you had just let me finish my game from the start."

Arthur's face boiling in anger spat, "Oh just finish your bloody game."

There really was no helping him. What did Arthur see in him again?

So yeah, there's that!

Reviews, comments, questions, and llamas are always welcome! :D


	5. Chapter 4: Reasons

Alright, next chapter! This one has some fluff... kinda, sorta, not really, but still! The next chapter might have some more action, but who knows cause I sure don't! XD

Anywho, enjoy! :D

I don't own Hetalia, but I do own the story line!

~~~ Chapter 4 ~~~

Reasons

After half an hour of screaming and groaning and rapid button clicking, Alfred had finally finished his game, so Arthur went right back into work mode. Sitting up in his chair, crossing his legs, he asked Alfred what he wanted the song to be about. Before they even thought of a single beat, Arthur had to know what kind of song he wanted to do. It was part of his process and he wasn't going to change it just because of some American.

"Hm," Alfred thought kicking his legs to and fro like a child, "Oh! What about a song about a kickin time at the beach?"

Without a moment of hesitation Arthur shot down Alfred's idea, "We're not doing an idiotic song like that."

Alfred pursed his lips and pouted, "Well, then what do you want to do?"

Arthur sighed. These decisions he hated the most for he never knew what his songs should be about, "I don't know, but I do know that we aren't doing a song about 'a kickin time at the beach' or a love song or a song about a day of the week." That last one was about this horrid song sung by a dreadful American artist he that he didn't even bother to learn the name of. The song was quite literally about one of the days of the week: Friday.

Alfred frowned, "What else is there to sing about then?! You just eliminated all the possible topics!"

"No. There are plenty of other things we could sing about," Arthur replied tapping his pencil irritatedly. "All the songs I write and sing involve none of those things."

"How's that even possible. All the songs I come up with are something like those. Even other artists' songs are about at least one of those things." Alfred looked at Arthur whom wouldn't meet his gaze for it was fixed on his notebook.

With eyes half lidded he gazed at the paper that was begging to be filled with words, "Well, I don't want the songs I sing to be a stupid song with no meaning and a bouncy tune." Arthur's tone suddenly went from sarcastic to serious with a flip of a switch, "When I write a song I want it to mean something to the person listening to it. I want it to touch their hearts and make them feel like the song was _meant_ for them. The song has to be broad enough so it relates to everyone. It can't be about someone breaking up with someone else feeling they don't need that person anymore. It has to have a real meaning behind it, other than selfishness. That's the kind of songs I write, and it's the kind of song we're going to sing." That last bit seemed like a suggestion, but it was a command. Arthur really wanted all of his songs to be something special.

A little dumbfounded, Alfred stared at Arthur with his eyes wide and mouth gaped open. He was impressed Arthur shed his feelings for his songs to him. He was amazed at how much he really loved music. When Arthur was done with his little monologue he said in a surprisingly quiet voice, "So what's the song going to be about?"

Returning to his usual sarcasm, Arthur sneered, "I don't know, that's why I asked you, you twit."

A smile curling onto Alfred's lips seeing how Arthur returned back to normal, he leaned back in his chair and tapped his finger to his chin in thought. Snapping his fingers, Alfred sat back up and blurted, "How about a love song?!"

Arthur scowled and sighed, did Alfred listen to a single word he just said?! Arthur bet he was just saying that to spite him. "I told you; I don't do bloody-"

"But what if it's a song about love's _struggle_?" Alfred interrupted the British man raising his eyebrow.

Arthur paused. He had to admit; it seemed like a good song to write about. A majority of people weren't in a_ real_ relationship so it would relate to a good number of people. As long as it wasn't like any of those dopy American songs he heard on the radio, the song would turn out pretty good, with the right lyrics and rhythm of course.

Not looking at Alfred, Arthur cleared his throat, "That-that might not be such a bad idea." Arthur didn't want to look at the American's smug face. He knew he would smile that idiotic smile that got his blood pumping and make him blush horribly. No, his simply wouldn't have it.

"Sweet!" Alfred exclaimed returning to his usual happiness.

Hearing a soft beep, Arthur glanced down at his watch: 8: 50. He clicked his tongue. How had he managed to let time slip through his fingers? Sighing she got up from his seat and told the confused American in front of him, "Sorry old chap, but I've got to go. I have to get ready for my next concert which is in less than twenty-four hours." Arthur started to make his way to the door, sweeping up his pack as he walked, not turning his head back to see Alfred's shocked face.

"A concert?!" Alfred exclaimed, "Oh, can I go?!"

Stopping, Arthur turned around genially surprised, "You-you really want to go to one of my concerts?"

"Sure! I mean, I've got nothing else better to do tomorrow, plus I want to hear you sing." There it was. That idiotic smile. Alfred tilted his head slightly to the side as he gave that toothy grin. Why did he have to have such a gorgeous face?!

"Ah," Arthur stammered, not really knowing how to respond to such a comment, "You can come, I mean, if you want." He turned back around and said over his shoulder still a bit dumbfounded, "I'll have Kaoru sent you a ticket tomorrow, or something."

With that, Arthur left the smiling Alfred alone in the room while Arthur tried so desperately hard to control his fevering blush.

Now that that's done, I want to thank you for bareing with me! I could be putting these up a lot faster if the internet wasn't such a distraction. Comments/Reviews are always welcome anytime! I really want to hear how I'm doin cause I hahonestly have no clue! XD

Oh! One more thing! I noticed how there are a _ton_ of USUK out there that England is a pirate. I can understand why considering he was a pirate at one point, but I haven't seen much fanfics quite like this one; where England is a rock star. I mean, Second British Invastion anyone? If someone happens to find a story that's somewhat similar to this one, I'd love to read it!

Anyway thanks, and see ya when the next one comes up ^^


	6. Chapter 5: Concert

**This one is a little fluffier than what I intended, but I plan on changing that in the next chapter *evily rubs hands together* Anywho! I'm sorry for taking a little longer with this one. You would think being out of school would mean posting up chapter quicker, but its just the opposite with me... *mutters to self* stupid internet...**

**I don't own Hetalia, but I do own the story line :D**

~~~ Chapter 5 ~~~

Concert

P.O.V. Arthur

_Deep breaths, old chap. Deep breaths. . . _

I inhaled and exhaled trying to control my breathing. My breath came out wavered and not at all calm and smooth as I intended. No matter how many shows I've done in the past I always seem to get nervous at the last few minutes before the performance. Even from inside my personal dresser I could hear the roar of fans. Before I retreated into the room I peered outside to see the turn out to be much bigger than I anticipated. Sure that was good, great even, but it made the butterflies in my stomach flutter around even more nervously as if they had a double dose of caffeine.

Sitting in front of a mirror, I folded my hands and rested my head on top of them. This was another part of my life which I hated, the nervousness. I hated it so much it made me want to explode!

I took another breath, in attempt to calm myself again, when a knock on the door echoed through the room. Flinching slightly, I sighed giving a half hearted, "Come in."

The door clicked open as a gruff voice said, "Ten minutes 'till show time, and there's someone here to see you."

Refusing to lift my head I grunted, "Let them in." I assumed it was Kaoru. Who else would dare bother me at a time like this? I had a bad habit of snapping at anyone who disturbed me right before my performance for I was hopelessly nervous so no one dared bothered me around this time  
unless it was urgent.

The door reopened and closed without a single noise. I waited for someone to speak, but when no one did I growled, "What do you want?" I didn't really know who it was that was standing behind me, so I suppose it was kind of rude of me to snap at them even though they didn't even say anything. But, like I said, I'm nervous! They'll just have to deal with it!

"Geesh dude, I just wanted to wish you 'good luck' and all! But I guess I won't anymore!"

_Oh, God no. . . . _

Lifting my head, I slowly turned my head to meet Alfred's gaze. He was smiling with his hands in his aviator's jacket. His messy blond hair was swooped to the side, like usual, and his glasses hung on his nose partly covering those beautiful blue eyes.

_Wait. 'Beautiful'?! Oh, stop thinking stuff like that Arthur! _I thought mentally slapping myself.

I stood up and crossed my arms across my chest and scowled, I then muttered, "Why are you really here?"

"I already told you, to wish you good luck!" Alfred laughed.

"You do realize that wishing one good luck before a performance is actually _bad_ luck," I said glaring at him through half lidded eyes.

He blinked and rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Then I came here to say 'break a leg!'"

I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation. Did he know anything about the performing arts?!

Giving a fake smile I said keeping my eyes focused on the ground, "Well thanks. Now I'm _terribly_ sorry for I have to get ready for the show." I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but it seemed to slip out a tad when I said "terribly". I turned him around and started to push him out the door as I talked.

When I was a few feet from pushing him out the door he spun himself around to face me. He then placed a hand on my cheek and let his fingertips graze my jaw. He tilted my head upward and gave me kiss. His soft lips pressed on mine gently and caringly. It took all my will power to not melt into his strong arms right there. After a few seconds he pulled me into a tight embrace. My face was pushed into his chest and I caught a whiff of his scent. He smelled strangely of fast food grease and peppermint, and it was strangely intoxicating.

He pulled back and gave me a smile. He placed one hand on my shoulder and another on my head and rubbed it affectionately, "Don't be nervous Artie! You'll do great!"

My eyes widened. How did he know of my stage fright?

Speechless, I stared up at him. My mind still a bit foggy from the kiss, I didn't respond. He flashed his beautiful white teeth at me again and headed out the door leaving me this time in the middle of my dresser.

* * *

P.O.V. Third Omniscient

The crowd talked noisily as they waited impatiently for the concert to start. The stage was pitch black and seemed abandoned.

When all seemed quiet smoke started to roll onto the stage. The crowd roared in excitement for they knew the concert was about to start. Back lights turned on showing a little more light to the stage. Some of the smoke began to tumble off the stage and coat the audience in a thin layer of fog. A single spot light shined in the middle of the stage. The roar of the fans grew louder, eager to hear Arthur sing.

Arthur gave one more deep breath and stepped out to the stage. Because it was still a tad dark, the audience didn't see him right away. But when he stepped into the spot light, the crowd went wild. Seeing everyone that came out to see him, his stage fright melted away. With an electric guitar strapped across his graphic T-shirt, he pulled it up to himself and positioned his fingers and played one solid unmistakable rift. The crowd knowing instantly what song Arthur was going to play went wild. This song happened to be a fan favorite.

Lights suddenly shined onto the rest of Arthur's band and they began to play along with Arthur whom led the way. The song picked up tempo and the rhythms slowly became more and more complicated. A few seconds into the song and Arthur brought himself up to the mike that was in front of him and began to sing. Every word poured out from his soul as he sang the touching words. The crowd sang to themselves the lyrics as well. They all jumped up and down to the beat of the drum which vibrated the stage.

After a few more heated songs with a few songs on the slower side, Arthur wrapped up his concert. The crowd cheered for the excellent concert, and almost tempted him to do an encore, but he left with a "THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING, AND HAVE A WONDERFUL NIGHT!" He waved good-bye to his fans one last time and walked backstage. The crew congratulated him on a great performance with pats on the back and high-fives.

Arthur took a towel and a bottle of water someone offered him. He doused half of the water over his head and drank the other half in ten seconds flat. The last song really did a number on his throat. He then sat down on a nearby speaker that wasn't being used with a grunt.

Arthur then heard the unmistakable voices of three people whom he gave tickets to a few days before. He sighed and smiled as Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio made their way toward him. They all had big goofy smiles on them and laughing quite loudly. They came over and patted him on the back telling him how awesome the concert was. They all chatted like old chums for a while when the three suddenly left for something about their dates that they brought with them.

The three ran off and linked arms with their date which Arthur kind of knew. Antonio grabbed the hand of a Lovino Vargas, an Italian boy whom Arthur saw some times at the café Antonio worked at. Gilbert grabbed the arm of a guy with brown hair and glasses placed on top of his nose. Roderick Edelstein, if Arthur remembered correctly. Francis slung his arm around a timid looking boy, Mathew Williams. Arthur had to look twice at who was with Francis for he looked almost exactly like Alfred.

Alfred.

Arthur shook his head trying to get the boy out of his thoughts. He got up himself and turned around to go to his dresser when someone yelled from behind him, "Yo Artie! Wait up!"

Arthur turned around and saw Alfred weaving his way around the staff to meet him. Alfred smiled down at Arthur when he was in front of him. Alfred was a good head taller than Arthur which Arthur found completely unfair. _If anything it should be the other way around_, Arthur thought.

"I just wanted to tell ya that that was one AWESOME concert!" Alfred said emphasizing the word awesome. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the American. Not only was it a nice complement, for him, but he also sounded like a certain Prussian that left a few moments ago.

"Thanks!" Arthur smiled at him, and this time it was a genuine smile not a fake one.

"Hey, to celebrate I'll buy you a burger!" Alfred offered.

Thinking about it Arthur finally gave in. He was in a good mood after the concert and he figured he _should_ celebrate his job well done. "Actually, that wouldn't be such a bad idea." Alfred perked up even more as if he were expecting Arthur to shoot down his idea. "But no burgers," Arthur insisted.

With a disappointed nod, Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and practically dragged Arthur outside and into the streets eager for a bite.

**Oki-doki that wraps this one up! :3 And yeah I hinted at some other pairings like SpainxRomano (AntonioxLovi), FrancexCanada (FrancisxMathew), and PrussiaxAustria (GilbertxRoderich) cause I like them. Deal with it! **

**Comments and Reviews are ****_always_**** loved! **

**Thanks everyone! :D**


	7. Chapter 6: Drunk

**Alright, sorry for the late update! I went on a short vacation to the Dells... I guess I should've said something before I left. But ya know: live and learn. I'll try my best to get this story up faster now considering that A) I'm out of school :D B) I now know where this story is going ^^ **

**Also I'm changing the rating to M because of... things, and by the title of this one you can imagine what's gonna happen :3 **

**So enjoy! **

~~~ Chapter 6 ~~~

Drunk

As promised, the two didn't go out for burgers. Instead Alfred brought Arthur into a pub. Arthur didn't complain for he was quite found of pubs, but he did have a bad habit of drinking too much. But with Alfred with him now, he was determined not to drink as much as he usually did, or will try.

Alfred dragged Arthur into a pub that was only a few blocks away from Arthur's concert. The old wooden door flew open with a loud bang that was sure to scare anyone in the pub. Alfred came in laughing like a mad man as he pulled Arthur along. Because of his good mood, Arthur didn't bother to tell him to quiet down. The two both took a seat at a nearby table.

Now that Arthur wasn't being dragged along like a rag doll, he began to take in his surroundings. The place was dimly lit and quite empty. Dark wood furniture was arranged here and there throughout the pub. To the side was a fire place that crackled and filled the building with warmth. A flat screen T.V. hung at every corner playing various sports channels.

The two were defiantly the loudest in the entire pub. With both of their laughing filling the air, others turned their heads and shook them disgustingly at the two youngsters.

By this time, Arthur was on his fourth or fifth bottle of booze. His head was spinning and he'd forgotten where he was and with whom for a second, then laughed it off. Alfred, unlike Arthur, only had two or three beers and wasn't quite as wasted as he. He laughed as he watched Arthur make a fool of himself while drunk.

When it was getting late and Arthur refused to go home, Alfred dragged him back to his apartment (literally) that he stayed at for the time being while he was in England.

He clumsily flipped on the light switch while he held a drunken Arthur in his arms. Arthur's head hung loosely on his neck as he muttered and laughed to himself. Alfred tossed Arthur onto a bed in his spare room. He didn't really have a need for the room but in times like this it came in handy. He sighed to himself as he sat next to his friend whom was lying upside down from the bed laughing.

Arthur looked up at him with half lidded eyes and smiled. Alfred couldn't help but laugh at the Englishman. Artie was usually so calm and proper and such, seeing him drunk and sloppy like this was comedy gold.

Arthur sat himself up in the bed and asked with his words quite slurred together, "Where-where am I?"

Alfred laughed, "My apartment. The owner had to kick us out cause it was getting too late." He left out the fact that the owner also kicked them out because of the fact that Arthur was being . . . well . . . crazy. Alfred then took off his glasses to polish them. When they were all clean he felt too lazy to place them back on his nose, so he decided to keep them off. He tossed them onto the night stand next to Arthur who didn't even notice.

"Really?. . ." Arthur asked. His head swiveled around the room like a lost puppy. His gaze then fixed itself back onto Alfred who was trying not to laugh at Arthur's drunkenness.

Out of nowhere, Arthur suddenly leaned on Alfred propping his arms on Alfred's shoulder and his head on top of his arms. He was quite close to Alfred, but he didn't care because it was actually really cute. Arthur then took one of his hands and rubbed the back of Alfred's head feeling his hear. He smiled and laughed, "You're hair is really soft! Like a puppies!" He continued to rub his head as he praised him with a tone one would use on a dog, "That's a good puppy! Who's a good boy? You are!" Arthur continued to pet his hair and laugh.

Alfred rolled his eyes. He didn't know why he didn't stop him for he was getting kind of ridiculous. Arthur's laughs stopped abruptly as he slurred, "You got some beer on your cheek." Alfred flinched. _Well, that's embarrassing._

He was about to wipe it off, when Arthur leaned closer to Alfred to lick the alcohol off. Arthur dragged his tongue up slowly against Alfred's cheek.

Alfred froze.

His cheeks flushed.

When Arthur had his fun, he leaned away from Alfred and licked his own lips enjoying the taste. Arthur looked so sexy right then it drove Alfred over the edge. Without thinking, Alfred jumped on top of Arthur pushing him down. Arthur made no resistance as he was tackled by the larger man. Positioning his arms one on either side of Arthur's head, Alfred gazed down at the Englishman: his eyes were half lidded as his chest rose and fell with every deep breath.

Slowly leaning down, he brought their lips together in a soft light kiss.

When the American pulled back he stared down at the man he loved waiting to see his reaction. After a short pause, Arthur cupped Alfred's face and pulled him down to crash their lips together harder than before. Arthur slipped his tongue into Alfred's mouth with no trouble at all, only to meet Alfred's. The two danced for dominance; moans escaping the two's mouths. After their battle, Alfred pulled them apart. Arthur wined a bit, but didn't stop him. His breaths were heavy and a little bit ridged. He then wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck bringing him as close to him as possible. He whispered through wavered breaths into Alfred's ear, "I love you Alfred."

Alfred's eyes widened. That came out of nowhere. He wrapped an arm around the Brit below him and whispered, "I love you too." He meant it. He never really did stop loving him. It broke his heart when he left him and it was put back together when he saw his face again for the first time in a year. And this time, Alfred wouldn't let him get away from him again.

**Yeah right when it gets good I do this to you people! XD Don't worry it'll get better. At some point =P **

**Now I know there are a good hand full of people reading this, and I'd really love it if y'all reviewed and such, cause it seriously helps me! No,I'm serious! For the people who did comment: I love you all! The reviews help me write, so if ya want to see more, please review! (but now crapy reviews that's only two or three words long: that's not a review!) **

**Thank you all, and see you next time :D **


	8. Chapter 7: One Time!

**Oki-Doki! Next chapter! WOOT! Before I get started I just wanted to say a huge thanks to all the people who reviewed from the last chapter! You people are just as awesome as Prussia! (Prussia would beg to differ, but I say you are XD) You people know who you are, and I just wanted to say you all helped me through this chapter. **

**Enjoy all the craziness of Arthur and Alfred ^^**

~~~ Chapter 7 ~~~

One Time!

P.O.V. Arthur

_Arg . . . damn what happened last night?_ I thought. I sat myself up and immediately regretted it. A sudden rush filled my head causing my brain to knock around inside my head throbbing in pain. _Oh great, a hangover,_ I thought again_, I wonder how much I drank this time. _

Being familiar with the feeling, I tried my best to rub the sleep out of my eyes. When I opened my eyes, just a crack, light flooded them making my head throb more. I let out a small groan as I opened my eyes a tad bit wider. When my eyes adjusted to the light, I examined the room. I've never seen the room before and it was a bit chilly. A few posters hung on the walls, and there was a desk that sat in the corner with a bunch of paper work and old cardboard boxes for pizza. Cloths were littered on the floor, and . . . wait. Was that my T-shirt?

Slowly looking down, I noticed my bare chest and that that was indeed my shirt that lay on the ground, along with all the other articles of clothing I was wearing the night before. A sudden chill ran up my spine when I realized that I was naked, and _in bed_.

I took a deep breath in attempt to calm my over imaginative brain. _There was no way in hell I did anything . . . weird . . . the night before. There was just no way! Quit thinking of weird stuff like that! _

I twitched when I heard something move at my side. Very stiffly and slowly, I turned my head with eyes as big as moons. Lying next to me was a snoring Alfred whom was also at a loss of clothing. I didn't think it was possible, but my eyes got even wider as I gazed down at the American.

I tried to calm myself by thinking: _We didn't do anything weird. We didn't do anything weird. We didn't do anything weird!_ But when that didn't work I clenched my fists. `Not able to contain my anger and surprise any longer I yelled, "**_WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED, YOU BLOODY WANKER?!_**"

Alfred's eyes immediately shot open as he yelped and crashed into the floor. I brought the white sheets closer to me trying to cover myself as I glared at Alfred whom was sprawled on the floor.

Alfred rubbed his sore head as he slowly got up and raised an eyebrow at me, "Dude, first of all _OW_! And second, that isn't even your bed it's mine!"

_Oh hell . . . _

"S-so, we're in your room?" I asked trying my best to give the boy a harsh glare, but it was kind of difficult with my cheeks burning.

"Y-yeah. Well, my apartment for the time being. I've got a place back in the States, but I'm staying here for now. The owner kicked us out last night cause of how drunk you were," Alfred laughed casually.

I glared down at him as he rested his arms on the side of the bed looking up at me with that ridiculous face. "I was not that drunk!" I shot at him.

He laughed, "Oh, hell yeah you were! Do you remember-" He suddenly changed the pitch of his voice and continued to talk in a very slurred, bad British accent. He closed his left eye and continued, "'Oi, p-port to starboard! Move ya asses ya bloody yanks before I come over there and poke you with ma big p-pointy stick!'" He then raised his arm and portended to stab me with a sword.

"I did _not_ do that!" I protested. Yet again, I had no memory of the night before so I might've done that. I've done stranger things while drunk, but it was still embarrassing!

Tears started to form in Alfred's eyes as he continued to mock me, "O-or how about this one-?" His expression then turned to dead tired and said with that slurred British voice from before, "'Wa-what? What is the floor doing up here? Get out of my face you damn floor! Get off ya lazy ass and get outta my face you bloody floor!" By the last word Alfred couldn't keep up his fake me and laughed his guts out.

I, however, tried my best to not look embarrassed. Did I really do those things? I tried my best to remember back to the night before, but drew a blank.

As the bloody twat kept laughing, I shrank under the sheets to hide my shame. Also, it was quite bright in the room which didn't help my hangover in the slightest. "_I swear I'm never going to drink again. Someone please kill me . . ._"

"Come on, it was funny!" Alfred laughed as he placed a hand on my back rubbing it gently.

"Oh bullocks, I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Yup!" the American said continuing to laugh.

I got up from beneath the covers and fetched my clothes from the floor while grumbling, "Well, whatever." I quickly got up and re-clothed myself as Alfred did the same. He kept snickering to himself, about me no doubt.

When I had gotten everything back on, I turned around and started to make my way to the door. I then stopped and turned around to see Alfred in only jeans grinning down at me. Before I left Alfred smiled, "Hey, you leavin' so soon?"

"Yes," I muttered.

"Well, as long as you're here, do ya want to work on that duet some more? I mean we barely got anything done before."

"And whose fault was that?"

Alfred looked away and smiled scratching the back of his head, "We don't need to get into small details like that! So anyway, wanna try and work on the duet some more?"

My eyebrow twitched, "Alfred, let me give you some advice." I paused sighing rubbing my sore head, "Never ask an Englishman to work while hung-over. It will only lead to bloodshed."

The bloody fool laughed some more as if it was some sort of joke. I rolled my eyes and continued to make my way out of the apartment when I turned back around when I was mere steps away from the door. The bloody fool fallowed me to the door to see me out all while laughing at my "joke".

I then sighed and told him, "I just wanted to say thank you for taking care of me while I was drunk. And I hope I didn't do anything too weird, for I don't remember last night at all."

His smirk lessened when I uttered the last sentence, "You really don't remember?" His tone was sad and his eyes showed it too, but he still held onto that smile.

"Y-yeah," I said looking away from those sad blue pools. I scratched the back of my head and continued, "I can't remember anything. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for being a bit much because I know I can be. And trust me I won't go drinking for a _long_ time."

_Not after _that, I thought.

"Oh," Alfred finally said. He shoved his hands in his pockets and widened his smile. Even though he looked happy I could tell he was hiding his sadness, but the real question was why? "It's no problem dude, you weren't too weird!" He then laughed to himself, trying to look happy. I didn't question his actions, even though it was completely obvious he was faking his emotions.

I turned my heel and grabbed the door handle, letting myself out. I was already out the door when Alfred called, "And Artie?"

"_Arthur_," I corrected, "And yes?"

He grew a sly grin on his face as he leaned against the door frame, "Wanna get a drink sometime?"

I glared at the twat and stated, "Go to hell."

**Yup, so there's that chapter! I love writing in Arthur's Point of View. It's something about his ****Britishness that I find so fun to wirte. Plus he's so stuborn sometimes, but he knows when to swallow his pride. **

**I also wanted to say sorry for not getting this up faster. I would've gotten it up yesterday, but I was being a lazy ass, and I was reading other fics. What?! I need ideas and such! XP**

**Don't forget to review, cause I love them with all my heart! I don't even care if you review days/weeks after I post this up. REVIEW! Please and thank you**


	9. Chapter 8: Just work ish

**S'up people of the interneet! Sorry for taking so long with this one, I suddenly have a life and not able to type as much as I would like. Plus, the internet is always distracting ^^; Anyway, not much in this chapter. This one's mostly just a filler, but it was still fun to write and, I hope, read!**

**Enjoy! **

~~~ Chapter 8 ~~~

Just work . . . ish

After that day, business went on as usual for the two rising stars. Alfred and Arthur met every week on Saturday to think about lyrics and music. They sometimes met on Sundays as well for they were on a roll. It seemed anytime Arthur had strings of lyrics coming out of him, he had to keep the string going or it would just stop dead in its tracks and refuse to continue to roll.

At the seventh or so meeting, the two decided to meet at Arthur's house. The booth the two were use to using was occupied that day, and since no one was at Arthur's house at the time it seemed pretty perfect.

When a knock echoed through the empty house Arthur walked over to the door to welcome Alfred into his home. Alfred looked around with a grin and commented, "Nice place ya got here. Is no one home?"

"No, I've got the place for myself for the meantime. Consider yourself lucky you don't have the _pleasure_ to meet my _wonderful_ family," Arthur replied with his sarcasm well intact.

Alfred smiled, not really noticing the sarcasm as much and continued, "Aw, it would've been cool meetin your parents." Arthur tried to ignore him, but slightly blushed in his attempt, "So how we comin' on the song?" He then plopped himself down on one of the leather chairs and beamed up toward the other blond.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. He'd done most of the work due to Alfred's short attention span and lack of sharing anything useful. It ticked him off how he slithered the word '_we'_ into his sentence as if he were helping. "_'We'_ are almost done." Arthur exaggerated the 'we' showing his sarcasm yet again, "We just need a few more lyrics and we'll be finished. Right before the main chorus there is quite a big blank." As he talked, he rummaged around in his backpack and fished out his lyrics book. He flipped open to the song they were working on and sat down next to Alfred in another leather chair. Alfred leaned in closer with wide curious eyes.

The two brainstormed many different ideas but came to multiple dead ends. In frustration, Arthur threw his head back and let a loud moan escape his lips, "Why is this so damn hard!"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alfred agreed, "Yeah, we never had this much trouble with the other lyrics . . ."

Suddenly out of nowhere a cat jumped out from thin air and onto the chair next to Alfred. He jumped and stared at the cat as it lay down next to him. He looked at Arthur wide eyed and full of confusion. Arthur stifled a laugh as he gazed at the animal.

Arthur should've mentioned this earlier, but he did have a pet and that just happened to be the cat getting friendly with Alfred. The cat, Scotch, was a white furred fuzzy little guy with a few brown spots that covered its body and one that covered his left eye and ear. His ears flopped downward and piercing green eyes stared out into space. Arthur has been told on several occasions that he's been told that he looks strangely like his fuzzy little pet, but he just didn't see it. Plus, Scotch was one of the shyest creatures he's ever met. Scotch would normally stay hidden in the shadows and keep away from anyone but Arthur. It was rare to see him anywhere in broad daylight.

Arthur smiled and cooed, "Hey there little guy, what are you doing out?"

_His voice changed,_ Alfred noticed. It sounded more loving and soft when he gazed down at the creature, even his facial features softened. It was almost as shocking as a cat jumping out of nowhere. He wished Arthur talked to him that way.

Alfred shook away his shock, turning his gaze to Arthur he asked, "Is he yours?"

"Yes." Arthur was actually happy to talk about his beloved pet. It would give the two a little break before they had to keep working. He could use a breather for his brain was fried.

Alfred smiled and started to stroke the cat. He scratched him behind the ear and asked, "So what's his name?"

"Scotch," I replied. Scotch's expression stayed the same as the two talked and as Alfred pet him.

"Heh, that's cute. I'm actually more of a dog person, but cats aren't so bad!" It might've been his imagination, but Arthur could've sworn Scotch's expression hardened at the word _cute_. He had to stifle back another laugh as Alfred continued to stroke him.

"I would've figured as much," Arthur finally said. He could just imagine the American running around in a big open field with a large dog back in the States. He could picture him throwing various objects like Frisbees and sticks and the dog retrieving them. He could just see the two sharing a fun time in the sun. Shaking himself from his fantasy, he continued, "Let's give another crack at the song again shall we?"

Alfred didn't seem to want to drop the topic, but he nodded anyway.

Trying at it again, Arthur asked, "How about something like-"

The two were then interrupted again by a knock at the door. Arthur's head shot toward the door and glared at it. Would they ever get work done? Then a sudden thought whizzed though his mind: were his brothers really home already? Or worse, his parents. He shuddered at the thought.

Growling slightly he got up from his chair and walked to the door. When he opened it he was surprised to see Francis at the door. The idiotic Frenchman was almost as annoying as Alfred, but beat the American by just a little bit. The man had long blond wavy locks that partially fell in front of his face that had a half grin plastered on it. Stubble was growing on his chin and he was wearing quite loud clothing that was sure to make him stand out in a crowd of clowns. The boy flicked some hair out of his face and looked down at Arthur, "_Bonjour, monsieur_."

Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes. Francis made it a point to speak as much French as possible when around him just because it pissed him off. Francis' heavy accent carry thought each word that came out of his mouth. Arthur leaned his shoulder on the door frame and sneered, "Oh, what do you want Bonnefoy?"

The Frenchman smirked and laughed, "How is it that anytime I see you, you seem to be in such a bad mood?"

"You make my bad mood," he stated bluntly. As much as they were friends, Francis just had a way of ticking the Brit off by just being in his presence.

Francis folded his arms and peered over his shoulder to see Alfred still admiring Scotch with affection. He raised an eyebrow and asked, "Who is the _Américain_?"

With a dull expression, Arthur looked over his shoulder to see the Alfred still playing with his cat not trying to listen in on the two. "Oh," turning his body so his back leaned against the door frame letting Francis see more of his house, "Francis, Alfred. Alfred, Francis." He introduced the two fairly quickly for he was done with the Frenchman the moment he opened the door. Arthur then proceeded to close the door as fast as he could as he continued, "Well, it was a pleasure seeing you again Francis, but we really-"

"Oh, come on Arthur! What kind of introduction was that?" Francis complained as he pushed past him. Arthur let out a grunt of frustration as Francis entered his home.

He walked up to Alfred who continued to play with Scotch not trying to eavesdrop on the two's conversation. Francis walked up to Alfred, which lead him to look up to the Frenchman approaching him. Seeing another new comer, this time not as friendly as Alfred, Scotch jumped down from the chair and scampered off to where ever he goes when others are around. When Scotch was out of sight, Alfred stood to meet the Frenchman. Francis outstretched his hand and greeted, "Why 'ello! My name is Francis Bonnefoy; it is a pleasure to meet-" He froze with a look of horror on his face.

Alfred's eyes darted back and forth to see what got him so speechless, "Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?" Alfred began to wipe his face in search to clear it of any substance. Francis, out of nowhere, gripped Alfred's shoulders and leaned in closer to get a better look at him, not saying a word. Alfred flinched at the sudden contact and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Mathew?" Francis said at last.

"Who?"

Francis shook his head and smiled, "_Je suis désolé_. It's just that-" he paused and shook his head again laughing, "I thought you were someone else."

"Alfred F. Jones," Alfred quickly introduced and then shrugged, "And I guess I just have one of those faces."

Not wanting to drop the subject, Francis asked, "You wouldn't happen to know someone by the name Mathew Williams, would you?"

Alfred's eyes lit up, "Yeah, actually. He's my half brother."

"_Ilprend tout son sensmaintenant!_ That makes perfect sense! You two look exactly alike!"

_Well, they seem chummy,_ Arthur thought. He then closed the door and went back to his seat. When he sat down, so did the other two who continued their conversation on Mathew.

Arthur frowned, he didn't know Alfred had a brother. Apparently Mathew was Alfred's younger brother with the same mother but different father, which explained the different last names and the 'half' part. The two were close, but Alfred hasn't seen him in sometime.

Arthur's eyes widened when Francis took out a photo of Mathew to find it was the man who accompanied Francis at his most recent concert. He had the same blond hair but his was a tad bit wavier than Alfred's. His face was the same as Alfred's right down to his glasses, but his expression was nowhere near as boisterous as Alfred's. He looked very timid even in a picture. No wonder Arthur thought it was Alfred that one time for they could be twins.

As the two continued to talk, Arthur realized something. Francis didn't know Alfred was here to begin with, so there was something he wanted from him. When the two's talking died down a bit Arthur interrupted them, "So Francis," he started. The two turned their heads in Arthur's direction with confused faces, "why are you really here?"

"What, I can't drop by an old friend's house?" Francis winked.

"No," Arthur stated bluntly.

Francis pouted for a bit but then responded, "Fine. I came over because I heard you were going to be doing a duet at your next concert. At first I thought you would be singing with a sexy lady, so I came over for some tickets."

Arthur rolled his eyes, of course he would come for something like that.

But then Francis quickly added, "Oh, not that there's anything wrong with listening to _C'est mon amour_ brother."

Alfred smiled at the comment, but Arthur just glared at the Frenchmen. Giving in almost too easily, Arthur sighed and said, "I'll see what I can do."

He didn't need to elaborate for Francis got what he was saying and thanked, "_Merci!_" Content with the answer, Francis got up and said his farewells and left the two alone again.

After the door clicked shut, Alfred turned to the Brit, "He seems nice."

"And that's just it: he _seems_ nice." Okay, that was kind of harsh, but Arthur really didn't like the guy! Excuse him for being a little cranky toward the guy.

After the encounter, the two continued to fill the song with the much needed lyrics.

* * *

Translations:

_Bonjour, monsieur_- Hello mister

_Américain_- American (Dur)

_Je suis désolé_- I'm sorry

_Ilprend tout son sensmaintenant- _It all makes sense now

_Merci_- Thank you

**Aw, what happened?! Before you were all giving me beautiful fedback, but then it stopped =( As any writer would, I love reviews! It's what keeps me goin! I would give you...er... Oh! Some ****_lemon_**** in the next chapter perhaps?**

**Anywho, thanks for reading :D**


	10. Chapter 9: Heat of the Moment

**Alright next chapter! YAY! And sorry I didn't post this up sooner. And you all might have to wait for the next one as well. I sorta kinda got a job-ish. Okay, I'm training for a job, how 'bout that? Okay, we'll go with that XD I'm gonna be away from my computer the whole day for four weeks *dies a bit on the inside* but I will try to type on my iPod as much as possible! Don't worry your pretty little heads. Now enjoy :D**

~~~ Chapter 9 ~~~

Heat of the Moment

"Geez are you always this much of a dick when you're nervous?"

"Shut up, git!"

"Was that a yes?"

"I said shut it!"

Arthur slammed his head on the table burying his face in his arms. Alfred hovered over him and placed a hand on his back and mocked, "Don't worry dude! There will only be about a thousand people plus one watching!"

Arthur's face morphed from one on embarrassment/pain to confusion, "'Plus one'?"

"Yeah, I'll be judgin' you too!" he laughed.

"Oh well that's bloody wonderful." He continued to mope as the American just laughed at his pain. A few moments after a man entered the room telling the two that they only had fifteen more minutes before their concert started. The two finished their song just in time for it to be recorded without too much of a rush. The two both planned on playing two songs for themselves then the duet at the very end. It would act as their big finally.

At this point, Arthur managed to burry himself deeper into his own paranoia of having a bad show, which has never happened but there is always a first for everything. Seeing his distress, Alfred started to feel a twinge of guilt from teasing him so much. He sat down next to Arthur and placed his hand on his back. It was serious time.

"Hey Arthur," Alfred cooed.

His only response was a muffled, "What?"

"Don't worry about the show. I was only kidding. Plus, I'm opening up for you so you won't be the first person they'll see. First impressions are everything, ya know?"

Instead of a hearty 'thank you' Arthur said, "Well that's brilliant, then there will be more pressure on me to keep up the good performance."

_Man, this guy can probably turn a cure for cancer into a bad thing_, Alfred thought to himself. In the end, he just sighed and leaned back in his chair, "Fine, fine. Go and lie on your ass and cry. All I was trying to do was cheer you up, but_ nooooo_."

Arthur lifted his head ever so slightly that only his eyes were peering out from his arms. "I'm sorry Alfred, I always get like this don't take it personally." Even though it was muffled the message got out.

Alfred sighed. He tried not to take it personally but it was hard to hear your crush bag on you, and not in the good way. He shook it off and tried to keep the mood light, "It's fine, I guess. . ." Glancing over at the clock, the two now only had ten minutes left. Alfred decided to let Arthur sort this out himself, he does it before every single one of his gigs anyway. Without saying anything Alfred let himself out leaving Artie still buried in his arms and paranoia.

Alfred weaved his way around the staff and other various people until he was right on the outskirts of the stage. The stage was pitch black and a large amount of people's voices bounced off the walls creating quite a loud racket. He didn't exactly see all of the people, but he knew there were a ton of them and the pressure was finally starting to get to him. His palms started to sweat, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, and his breath was becoming ridged.

He shook his head and took a step away from the stage. To clear his mind more, he walked over to the band that was warming up on the sidelines and started to talk to them. They were a good group of people, kind of shy but nice.

At least they got his mind off the awaiting nightmare. He supposed he knew why Arthur got kind of nervous before every show. But he never felt like this before. He too has done other gigs, but he never felt this nervous. Guess it was the new location.

Someone then tapped Alfred on the shoulder. A little jumpy, he turned around so fast he almost smashed heads with the person behind him. One of the crew told him it was time for him to go on. Taking a deep breath, he motioned the band to fallow him up onstage. All with happy nods they all fallowed Alfred.

* * *

Head still in his arms, Arthur took another deep breath. After Alfred left, he almost cheered for joy. The American wouldn't stop talking! It was near impossible for him to calm his nerves with him chatting the night away. But once he left, there was finally peace. Arthur took a deep breath sitting up in his chair.

He ran his fingers through his tangled hair clearing his face. Even though he got nervous all the time before a show, today was different. No matter how hard he tried his hands wouldn't stop shaking, his palms were sweaty, and he had to keep taking long deep breaths. If he didn't, he'd start to hyperventilate.

As he sat there trying to settle his nerves, he heard music blaring through the walls. _Alfred must be performing now,_ Arthur thought. The tune was bouncy enough for someone to dance to, but he couldn't hear the lyrics. Heck, he couldn't even hear Alfred's voice. Alfred's words were just noises in the background.

An idea popped in his head just now. Was it, perhaps, Alfred that was making the Englishman so nervous? No, it couldn't be; that was ridiculous! . . . Or was it? The more he thought about it the more it seemed possible. Arthur chewed his bottom lip thinking of the American, when a knock snapped him out of his thoughts. Arthur almost flew out of his seat for he was so caught up in thought. He choked out, "Come in."

A girl this time poked her head in the room and said, "Alfred is almost done with his last song, Mr. Kirkland."

He waved the girl off with a "Thank you" and was left alone again in the dressing room. He sighed as he rubbed his eyes, once again trying to keep calm. Deciding he was getting nowhere just sitting there, he got off his lazy ass and headed out to perform his part of the show.

* * *

Alfred and Arthur crashed into their dresser with their lips attached to each other's not daring to separate. Arthur moaned as he was pushed, rather roughly, onto the couch. Alfred placed both hands on either side of him not letting him escape, not that Arthur would dare think of it. Alfred slammed his lips onto the Brits. He tilted his head deepening the kiss and bit on the other's bottom lip begging to be let in. Without hesitation, Arthur opened his mouth to let Alfred's serpent tongue enter. Alfred's tongue slid over Arthur's causing the Brit to moan. Alfred explored the new environment, leaving no rock unturned. Arthur threw his hands around Alfred's neck tangling his hands in his sweaty hair.

Arthur didn't know if it was the heat of the lights, or the intensity of the song, or even his own feelings for the American but when their duet finished with flying colors the two found themselves in this situation. They could barely keep their hands off each other as they left the stage. Both were covered in sweat from the lights and the excitement but neither of them cared as their hands roamed each other's bodies.

Alfred separated their lips, sadly, but then put them to use once again planting kisses along Arthur's jaw line and down his neck. Arthur tasted salty, and it was so addicting. Arthur threw his head back and closed his eyes as he absorbed the pleasure like a sponge. Alfred's hand suddenly went under his shirt and felt his lean body. The American's hands were large and rough and a tad bit sweaty but they felt amazing. Still giving attention to Arthur's neck, Alfred's hand started to travel south and that's when Arthur's eyes snapped open.

Arthur untangled his hands from Alfred's hair and started to push him off muttering, "S-stop. Alfred, we have to stop. . ."

Immediately, Alfred pulled himself away from Arthur with a shocked and scared look on his face, "Oh my gosh Arthur, I'm so sorry did I hurt you?" Genuine concern was on his face as his eyes were wider than the moon.

Arthur laughed and cupped his face with one of his hands, "No love, I just don't want to do it here. You deserve better than that." He sat up a bit more, still holding onto Alfred's face that began to soften, "Plus, we still got an after party to attend." A dark glint came over Arthur's eyes as he said in a softer voice, "We'll continue this later, if that's fine with you."

Alfred smiled as he helped the Brit back to his feet. The two just stared at each other for a moment, not saying a word. It was then that Arthur finally realized how much he liked the American. No, how his feelings for him had never left. Day after day, he was trying to convince himself that he was over him; he didn't need him anymore, just like those stupid American songs. But when those green eyes met those blue ones, Arthur realized how much he cared for the big idiot.

A true smile, not a fake one like usual, grew on Arthur's face as he held out his hand to Alfred. The American smiled as well and took the Brit's hand. They laced their fingers together and went to celebrate.

**Sorry, had to stop it there XD I believe the smut will come into play in the next chapter which you all have to wait for now. HAHAHA! I'm horrible... Anyway! I also skipped the stage scenes. I'm so sorry about that by the way. I really would've put them singin in this chapter, but that would require me to create a few songs for the characters, which I can't do. I couldn't even make any lyrics for Alfred and Arthur's duet! No matter what I tried it always turned out crapy! If anyone is good wth lyrics and can think of good lyrics for their song, I would be more than happy to put it in this chapter! **

**All that aside I hope you all enjoyed it, and reviews are always loved! Also, if I made any mistakes, PLEASE point them out to me. I suck at grammer, I need help XP **

**I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible, but don't expect anything too soon. See you all next time ^^ Oh and happy late birthday Alfred! **


	11. Chapter 10: Realization

**There always comes a point in time when a writer looks back at their old work and say how they did something weird or that they could be done a better job with, yeah that's happening to me right now. Looking back, some things I just don't see Arthur doing, but did then. But I have something to counter that! Because Arthur is now a 'rock star' (lol lame) his ego was boosted and he became more narcissistic than he really is! Sorry I had to share that! Donny mind me and my random thoughts XD **

**ANYWAY! Sorry for leavin you guys for a bit. I had this summer job and school shit, and... yeah... I tried to make this one longer, so please don't kill me! And enjoy~!**

~~~ Chapter 10 ~~~

Realization

Alfred walked into the large room with Arthur right on his heels. The after party already started when they entered the room. The lights were low with stray colorful lights flashing in a random order with the music was blaring. It wasn't any music Arthur fancied for it had no lyrics and was just some random tune to dance to, but he tried his best to keep the comments to himself. A dance floor was set up in the middle of the room with dozens of people already filling it. A few tables were scattered here and there for people to just sit and talk. Also a non-permanent bar was set up by the side of the wall. People would come over for some booze or to simply talk, but mainly for the booze.

Alfred really wanted to touch Arthur right then. The performance with Arthur, for some reason, got him all horny. He wanted to let his hands touch him everywhere while he kissed him from top to bottom. More than anything, he just wanted to hold him; have their two bodies touch lovingly. But he had to keep himself under control. For Arthur. Even though it was _really_ hard!

As soon as the two entered the room, they were hounded by people from all over. They said simple things such as, "Great job!" or "I loved your performance!" and other things like that. After his first few gigs, Arthur learned not to take the words that were thrown at him to heart. He realized that people just said all those things to be nice. Even if they did mean it, what was the opinion of a single person?

Alfred on the other hand soaked up all the comments like a sponge. He excepted the compliments with his classic smile and a hearty "Thanks a ton dude!" Arthur rolled his eyes every time he did so, but he couldn't stay mad at the big idiot. He wanted the blond just as much as he wanted him.

Right after their tenth or so congrats, the duo ran into some familiar faces. A silver blur ran into Arthur's line of sight blocking everything around him. Arthur jumped when he felt a quick slap on the back and a loud German voice yell, "NICE JOB DUDE! You really rocked that concert!"

Arthur shook off his shock and refocused his eyes. In front of him stood none other than Prussian himself, Gilbert. He had a huge grin on his face as he continued to abuse Arthur's spine. Fallowing close behind him were the rest of his little group: Francis and Antonio. The two also congratulated him on the great concert. Arthur waved it off with a small, "Thanks" when he noticed Alfred looking over the trio with confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry Alfred," he said to the taller blond noticing his confusion, "You remember Francis." Arthur gestured to the Frenchman sourly who responded with a flick of his hair and a French greeting. Gesturing to the other two, Arthur continued, "And allow me to introduce Gilbert Beilachmidt and Antonio Carriedo."

"Hola!" Antonio greeted out stretching his hand, "Nice to meet you. You did great out there!"

Alfred clasped his hand over Antonio's and replied, "S'up! And thanks man!"

Gilbert then cut in, "Yeah, you were awesome too. But not as awesome as me, but very close."

Alfred made a confused look, but smiled, "Uh, thanks. . . I guess. . ." Arthur had to bite his cheek to prevent him from smiling at the American's confusion. He had an image to uphold after all.

A few new faces then emerged from the crowd. Arthur turned his attention to the three new comers to see that they were the same three men that were also hanging around the trio from time to time. Arthur was just about to introduce the three new people to Alfred, for he most likely didn't know who they were either, but he didn't have the chance for Alfred screeched, "MATTIE!"

One of the new faces with blond hair, Mathew Williams, jumped. His head snapped in Alfred's direction as a look of fear and shock enveloped his face. Alfred pushed past our little huddle and toward the other blond. Alfred practically flung himself at the other boy. The American bear-hugged 'Mattie', whom was trying to calm the big oaf down. At first Arthur thought Alfred just tackled some person he didn't like, but when he found the other blond laughing and smiling his previous thoughts were pushed aside.

After the hug fest, Alfred yanked the other over to the rest of the group and introduced the man he just glomped, "Yo guys check out my younger brother Mattie! This guy is great, but he's so quiet so it's kind of hard to hear him!" He laughed at himself while giving the poor boy a few hard slaps to the back. He didn't seem to mind them, the kid just looked really shy. Mathew kept his chin to his chest and his shoulders hunched. His wavy blond hair almost lied on his shoulders as one stray strand made an entire loop sticking out of his head. Other than those small facts, Matthew had the same exact face as Alfred's making it a tad difficult to tell the two apart. They even shared the same glasses frame.

Mattie gave the group a small smile and a nod while saying in an indeed small voice, "Hello, it's nice to meet you all. I'm Mathew Williams."

"LOUDER!" Alfred yelled teasingly. Mathew barely had time to finish his sentence before the American bellowed that single word that was ten times louder than Mathew's normal speech.

"I can hear him just fine," Francis butted-in wrapping an arm around Mathew. This got a blush from the smaller blond as he burrowed himself deeper into the red sweater he was wearing. It would've been a cute gesture to Arthur if Francis wasn't in the picture.

"So whattaya doin here, dude?!" Alfred shouted. Really, the music was getting quite loud.

"I came over to England few months ago on a little vacation. I met Francis while I visited and just never went back," Mathew summarized as he cuddled into the Frenchmen.

"Aw what!? You were here a few months ago!? Why didn't you tell me bro!?" Alfred wined. Mathew laughed and didn't really answer his brother's question, but it really didn't matter.

The two then carried on in their own conversation with Francis putting in a few comments in here and there. Arthur didn't really pay attention; it really didn't strike his interest. He turned to find Antonio missing along with one of the newer faces. He didn't even get the chance to really see who it was. Sighing he turned to see the pale Prussian still there, but he seemed to be occupied with Roderich, another new face.

Gilbert seemed to have told something to Roderich that made him upset for his face went red with anger (or it was a blush, but Arthur really couldn't tell with the horrid lighting) while Gilbert just laughed like a mad man. Roderich then shoved the white haired man, hard. Gilbert probably didn't see it coming for he was shoved to the floor, still laughing. Arthur had to smile at that, he couldn't help it. Roderich smoothed out his wrinkleless shirt and walked away from the Prussian that was still on the floor laughing.

Noticing the Brit standing by the sidelines watching their little show, Roderich sighed. He was about to tell the other off about minding his own business when he noticed it was the performer that was watching them. Roderich placed a smile on his face as he walked away from the idiot on the ground, "I'm sorry you had to see that," the Austrian said quite embarrassed.

Arthur let out a small laugh, "It's quite alright. It was actually pretty entertaining to watch."

It was Roderich's turn to laugh this time. Watching Gilbert make a fool out of himself or watch him fall to the floor always did make him feel better too. "Well, it was nice running into you, and I must say that I do enjoy your music even though I'm more of a fan of the classics."

"Well, thank you; I'm also quite a fan of classical music. Do you play?"

Roderich seemed a little surprises by the question but he didn't hesitate to answer, "I do. I play violin and piano."

"Hm, I also play the piano but I don't even know how to hold a violin," Arthur responded adding a little chuckle to his voice.

Roderich also laughed. It seemed like the two were enjoying one another's company for they were swallowed into their own conversation for a good ten minutes when Alfred interrupted the two. The American grabbed hold of Arthur's shoulders forcefully and yelled over the roaring music, "Yo was'sup Artie!"

The Brit nearly jumped out of his skin at Alfred's actions. Arthur let out a shrill that was semi-ly covered by the loud volume of the music. Arthur whipped his head around to see Alfred smiling down at him as if he'd done nothing wrong. Arthur glared at the taller blond for a second then turned to Roderich and said his farewells and started to walk away from both men. Alfred said a quick good-bye to Roderich and began to catch up the Arthur.

"Hey, Artie! Wait up!" Alfred yelled dodging people to try to catch up to the Brit.

"How about you walk faster, love," Arthur said cockily. He didn't care if Alfred could hear that remark or not, he wasn't yelling over the music like Alfred, he just wanted to get the point of _I'm-not-slowing-down _across.

When Arthur pushed through the heavy iron door, back into the outside world, he breathed in a breath of fresh cool air. It was getting quite stuffy in there. Arthur smoothed out his cloths as if he saw a wrinkle in them and proceeded to walk to his car that was parked right outside.

Right before Arthur could grab the door handle, the deep gray double doors burst open once again letting Alfred outside. He turned his head this way and that like he was searching for lost treasure, when his gaze landed on Arthur. Alfred smiled and started to jog over the the Brit while saying, "Geez dude, you could've waited." He laughed and slipped into the passenger seat of Arthur's car.

The Brit was a little irritated that the American didn't even bother to ask if he could have a ride but dropped it. Even through the lighting was close to pitch black, Arthur could still make out Alfred's features: his strong shoulders, his messy hair, even his glasses were hard to miss. He smiled and sighed as he got into the drivers seat. "Or you could've stopped dragging your fat ass."

Alfred placed a hand over his heart and gasped, a look of fake stun on his face, "Ouch Artie, that one got me right in the pride!"

Arthur smiled, "Was suppose to, love."

Alfred's eyes widened. _Did he just call me 'love'? _As the car began to roll down the street the American kept thinking,_ He hasn't called me that since High School, before he left. _Having reminded himself of that time made his smile droop, but not enough for Arthur to notice. He tried to relight his spirits by thinking, _Dose this mean he still likes me? _

The car ride was quiet, but the two could care less. It wasn't an awkward quiet, it was comfortable. But Alfred being impatient could hardly keep his hands to himself. he looked over to the Brit. Arthur's eyes were glued to the road and both hands gripped the wheel firmly. Arthur's eyes, those beautiful emerald like eyes, shined as each street light passed. they twinkled in the little light that was given to them but seemed to glow. Arthur's hands were placed on the wheel elegantly. His hands weren't large and callused like Alfred's but small and almost girlish, but Alfred didn't mind them. It reminded him that underneath that whole rock star attitude/facade Arthur had a soft point.

Alfred took a deep swallow and licked his lips as he stared at the blond. Even thought it was dark out and Alfred could barely see him, Alfred seemed to get turned on by just looking at Arthur. It was kind of pathetic but, in a way, kind of sweet.

Unable to control his body, Alfred slipped his hand over to Arthur and grazed his thigh. Arthur flinched at the sudden physical contact but didn't say a word. Seeing Arthur had no problems with what he was doing, the American continued to rub the Brits thigh, faster and higher with every second. Arthur lowered his head and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. He also but his lip to prevent him from losing focus and crashing the car. Later, Arthur would slap the American for his little act, but the key word is 'later'.

When they arrived at Arthur's flat, Arthur parked his car and stepped out of his car looking around frantically. Alfred followed the Brits lead out of the car. He looked at Arthur with a confused look and asked, "What, checkin for stalkers?"

Arthur smiled and rolled his eyes, "Just making sure we have the house to ourselves, love." There it was again. 'Love'. Alfred was starting to like that little nickname all over again.

Arthur walked up to the door and reached into his bag for his keys. He shuffled his hand around in there for a moment, then spared a glance at Alfred. He was drumming his fingers on his leg impatiently. He also repeatedly tapped his foot with incredible speed as if he had thirteen cups of coffee.

Seeing the blonds impatientness, a sly grin grew on his face as he pulled out the keys to his house out of his bag. The keys were cold to the touch and reaked of old metal. He slowly brought his hand to the key hole that was just above the door handle. The Brit heard from behind him Alfred's faint drumming increase in speed. He was really impatient.

Grinning to himself once again, Arthur let the keys slip between his slim fingers and crash into the ground with a loud clang. The blond let a sigh escape his lips as he said teasingly, "Whoops."

"Oh for the love of-" Alfred outbursted. He snatched the keys off the ground and jammed them into the door with so much force Arthur was afraid the doorframe would crack. Alfred swing the door open and dragged the Brit inside, whom didn't fight back.

**Alrighty! That one done! Sorry for leaving at something like this again, I'm terrible! XP anyway, the next chapter will be the smut you all know and love, but have mercy on me. This will the first time I'll be writin stuff like that!**

**As always, comment, review, any fixes, anything, and everything!**


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